Mistletoe
by Twipothonmax
Summary: When Remus gets a bit tipsy at the Potter's annual Christmas party, complicated thoughts and feelings are all brought to the surface. What will could possibly go wrong under magical mistletoe? Standalone/Partly excerpted from future 'A Long Time to Wait' chapter. Remus x Sirius


**PRE-NOTE FOR ALTTW READERS: Hello again! I wrote the draft of this section of the story for a future chapter, but ended up making two endings (because obviously a longer story cannot be resolved like a one-shot) because I wanted a happy ending :) since then the idea has been tweaked and played with until it felt right. Enjoy!**

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I walk down the hall to my room from the Christmas party. It had been marvelous, of course; absolutely splendid in true Potter style, fantastic to unwind from school and other complications, but I had been getting rather tired and a tad tipsy. I, at least (unlike James and Peter) knew my limits and took my leave, especially considering that I am awkward and clumsy enough sober let alone with the aid of alcohol. Alcohol also had a tendency to bring all sorts of buried thoughts and emotions to the surface. Feelings, I have decided, that are too strong and too complex to consider at this point in time. Complicated enough to make my head hurt more than it was now. It was so quiet in this hall at the Potter's, almost too quiet; it made it much too easy for pressing thoughts to invade my head.

"Moony!" A hushed sort of yell. I heard him before I saw him, his voice hushed but loud enough to catch my attention; as if I wouldn't hear his voice in such a loud silence.

"Leaving the party so soon?" Sirius asks, jogging up to me "The party is barely getting started!" He says cheerfully with a grin.

"I-I was pushing my limits… alcohol and I do not mix particularly well," I attempt to explain as he smirks at my babble.

"It effects your judgement, you mean? Or just the clumsiness?" He chuckles as I glare "I understand. That is, however, part of the fun."

I raise an eyebrow.

He laughs at my judgement "C'mon then, better get you to bed then!"

We walk along the corridor, Sirius humming what sounds like 'White Christmas'. I glace at him briefly, silently admiring that he cleans up well. Not that his usual rough, leather-clad look did not suit him, I would be the first to admit that – well, perhaps to myself anyway – that it made him look good. But this look, this Sirius I could also admire and appreciate also: clean shaven, well-fitted robs, yet still untamably long messy dark hair, and his signature cheeky white smile.

Sirius meets eyes with me and I turn my head away quickly. How long exactly had I been staring? We are relatively close to our rooms now, Merlin, I must have been staring for at least a minute, completely lost in my thoughts. _This_ is why I do not usually drink at parties, because Padfoot is almost always attending, and impulse control has never been my forte…

I glace at him in the corner of my eye, and he's smirking, that _bastard_. It wasn't fair how much his presence unwound me when he was near so constantly, how it breaks down my barricades: it's all complicated, a million thoughts, a million raw emotions, and a million little paper cuts every day.

Yet somehow being with him is equally rewarding and entirely intoxicating. He sets me on edge like a constant adrenaline rush, balancing my – apart from the obvious – boring, mundane life on its head. I have held back, but a single word, a single look, a single _moment_ could have me questioning everything.

Just like this one.

Finally arriving at the rooms, he turned to say goodnight, or so I'd assume. Instead he drew his brows together, as if noticing something. He looks from my shoulder to my face.

"Snowflake." He murmurs.

"Is this a new nickname?" I reply with a laugh "I think you have enough already."

He smiles, and rolls his eyes. "No, _snowflake_." He points to my shoulder, where indeed lay a snowflake resting on my robes.

"Huh." I look back at Sirius, and just witness a snowflake drift to land in his hair. I look up.

Above us, a plant had begun to sprout magically, small white berries growing out the spiked leaves as it grows and expands…

"Mistletoe…" I unthinkingly murmur to myself, and my heart begins to race. Had Sirius seen? I hesitantly look back to Sirius, who is looking up as well.

Sirius practically snorts. "How ironic," he says, and I chuckle nervously "the Greeks thought mistletoe bestowed fertility, which is where this whole tradition comes from. Rather hilarious, considering." He says with a laugh, gesturing between us - two men. I almost sigh with relief at the humour, remembering that particular History of Magic class. Small talk, okay Remus. Use your words. I begin to ramble nervously.

"I always thought it was more ironic that in the Middle Ages it was used to ward off evil spirits and stuff, including us – I mean, not us as in _us_ – but as in witches and wiz-"

Sirius had suddenly stepped forward in a flash, tilting his head and grabbing my lapel and pulling my forward quickly onto his lips. His lips were so soft, but Sirius was kissing me – _me_ – fiercely as I was frozen in shock.

This _cannot_ be happening. After all these years of averting my eyes, avoiding James' suspicions, and bottling he is kissing me. _Sirius Black is kissing me_. Not some whimsical beautiful bird, _me_. No matter where this leads or what happens next, it is happening and it will never be the same again anyway; what matters is _now_.

I part my lips slightly and kiss him enthusiastically, holding his head in my hands as I close my eyes, threading my fingers into his hair. He opens his mouth slighting – a gasp, I assume from my sudden response – and he tastes like smoke and firewhiskey. I hazily attempt to imprint this moment in my mind: his lips, his taste, how he had gasped…

His hands loosened on my lapel and lowered, subconsciously wrapping an arm around my waist and one holding my hip, pulling me closer. I gasp for air as he pulls me so _close_ from the breathlessness and intensity. He takes his hand from my hip to my neck, and I wrap one of my around his waist too, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible. I feel it snowing harder now, the cold seeping through my jacket and into his hair.

I feel him bite my lip gently, almost a question. I smile as we slow to a deeper, more passionate kiss. I slowly back him against the wall near him and kiss him firmly, pressing him against it and resting one arm on the wall behind him as years of repressed passion pours out of me. I swear I could feel him smile beneath my lips, and he gives a soft, hushed moan when I bite his lip.

And I swear to Merlin, it was the happiest moment of my existence.

We both retract slightly to breathe, noses brushing against each over. I lean back slightly, pushing off the wall with my hand to see him. For once, Sirius does not smirk, he smiles. A true genuine smile. I grin back, and his cheeks go a little pink.

"Well," I mumble breathily "now what?"

Suddenly, a voice sounds from around the corner. "Maybe stop being absolute _prats_ and CONFESS YOUR UNDYING LOVE FOR EACH OVER, for MERLIN'S SAKE!"

My head whips around, "JAMES!" I yell, holding back a groan.

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, I AM GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!" yells Sirius, irritated but thoroughly amused as we hear James and most likely Peter leg it down the hall laughing.

We look at each over and chuckle. I can't help it, I am so full of joy that I put my thumb to his chin and peck him again. I hesitate there for a moment.

"I… I think he's right you know." I murmur against his lips. I see them tug upwards.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I snicker, but then turn solemn again "I think I love you, Sirius."

"I love you too, _Snowflake_."

I groan as he laughs, and silence him with my lips once more.

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